Chapter 63: The Eve of Return to the Capital

Thank you for your trouble, Shizhi. Chu Hanxiao straightened his disheveled hair, half-propping himself up with a smile of gratitude, his eyes brimming with playful amusement.
I'll take it. Xia Qiqi stood up, walked to the hall entrance, and took the bowl of medicine from Wen Shizhi. His Highness's medicine needs to be drunk while it's hot.
As their hands brushed while passing the tray, a trace of warmth met a hint of chill.
Wen Shizhi instantly pulled back his hand as if electrocuted, bowed, and said, This subordinate takes leave.
Especially both he and Chen Hao were well aware of one thing: when people believed they were guaranteed victory, both their psychology and physiology would undergo changes. Weren't a thousand members from six major guilds annihilating a Red Flag Army simply an effortless task? And precisely when they let down their guard would be the prime moment for Aotian and Past Sentiments to strike.
She simply wondered whether Huo Chen would actually come tomorrow night. If he did come, should she feel happy about it?
Your Majesty, Your Majesty! Tell me what she said isn't true, that it isn't true! Gao Ziyuan knelt beside Qi Min, clutching his robe and pleading.
Though he spoke thusly on the surface, an inexplicable sense of achievement welled up inside him. Those who had never experienced such treatment could never imagine how marvelous it felt. No one did not love honor; no one did not wish to be recognized by others. Their shouts made Du Yuesheng truly feel that his relentless struggle for so long had not been in vain.
Chen Hao and the others focused all their attention, casting their gazes onto the competition stage. When two powerhouse teams clashed, what would they be able to display? That was what demanded their attention.
The two guards who had previously been standing post outside heard the Prince's summons, and only then walked in with trembling steps, their faces full of terror, terrified lest Baili Cangming punish them for what had just happened.
What is going on? Why did we suddenly launch an attack on Gufeng City? Could it be that you went to the garrison? Tang Shi asked in astonishment over the voice channel.
Hehe, as you wish. Du Ziteng glanced from time to time at the Eight Trigrams folding fan in his hand, his entire heart tethered to it.
Song Yiyi seemed to be sleeping somewhat restlessly, as if caught in a nightmare. Xiahou Ce smoothed out the furrow between her brows over and over again, as if trying to smooth away her unease and sorrow, wishing to comfort her.
Daniu walked to the center of the road. Han Kun and Wang Siyao did not come out; Wang Siyao had already been muted by Han Kun's pressure-point strike.
However, this breathing space lasted for mere seconds before the cell phone rang once more. It was the exact same incoming call, as though the phone would not stop ringing unless Guan Chenji answered it.
When was the first time he discovered the dangerous anger lying dormant within Tianjiao? Probably from the moment Gu Lian told him about Wu Fei's covert plotting. At first, he did not believe Gu Lian; after remaining silent for a long while, he glared fiercely at Gu Lian and said that if she were lying to him, he would not let her off.
Song Yiyi froze instantly in her tracks. The man's words were like a basin of ice-cold water poured straight over her head, a bone-chilling cold that made her feel as though the blood in her veins had frozen solid, no longer able to hear the sound of its flow.
A gentle wave of primordial energy swept across the entire scene, gently lifting all the flower spirits to their feet. Such profound cultivation left every single flower spirit deeply awestruck.
It was hardly mere respect; they were practically on the verge of rushing to Gu Meng's office themselves to confess their guilt. And the crime was simply this: how could such a trivial matter possibly require the Empress Dowager to make a phone call? They should have personally come to confirm it with the Empress Dowager instead.
Zhao Fuxin handed Ouyang Feng over to the guards for care. Ouyang Feng was already unconscious, with fresh blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. Looking at the exquisite sword box made of yellow rosewood in his hand, he truly could not bear to part with it, not only because the sword was tied to his very life.
Ling Su let out a heavy sigh, the surging irritation in her heart prompting her to expel another breath of foul air. She cast one final glance back at the scenery within the estate, and then turned away without a shred of lingering attachment, striding off into the distance.
They did not even need military intervention; simply economic sanctions and blows from the Chinese government were something none of them could ever accept.